Savage Love: Unicorn Hunters

I am a single woman, 31, in LA, and on OkCupid. (We all are.) I’ve gotten a number of unicorn requests. (Maybe because I mention being a subscriber to the Savage Lovecast magnum version in my profile?) I’ve never responded—until the other day. One unicorn request stood out. I wrote back. They seem like cool, smart, interesting people (a 40-year-old liberal married couple). Their profile is funny, and they’re quite attractive! And here I am, not doing anything else or anyone else … and I’m thinking … this could be cool. It could be an awesome experience. Why not play around while everything is still slim and perky? But! I have some concerns!

1. Uh … what now? I gave them my number, but I can’t say that I’m definitely a YES on this. I’m also not a NO. What happens now? We meet for drinks? Then what?
2. I’ve never even had a one-night stand. I’ve pretty much always had boyfriends. I don’t know what my question is here, it’s just something I’ve been turning over in my head. I just don’t want to feel like a hooker! (Not that there’s anything wrong with being a sex worker!)
3. I’m not bi. I don’t say that I’m bi on my OkCupid profile. I cannot imagine a scenario in which I would want to put my face in someone’s twat. (I know you understand the feeling.) But I don’t think I have any issue with being on the receiving end. (Maybe? I’ve never been a unicorn!) I’ve done the college playing-around-with-girls thing—topless make-outs for a boyfriend’s viewing pleasure—but nothing crazy.

I think, if I meet them, and if it goes well, I should ask them what their thoughts are about this, if they’ve done it before, what their boundaries are, etc. I would confirm that if anyone feels uncomfortable, everyone involved has the green light to call a stop to the whole thing. I’d also lay out my limitation in regards to the wife. But … should I go for it? What should I do or say?
—Future Unicorn Nervously Guessing At Logistics

1. Meet, have drinks and talk, FUNGAL—and be sure to tell that nice, funny, attractive couple everything you’ve told us. And then do what any sane person would do: Fuck ’em if it feels right, don’t if it doesn’t.
2. Refuse to accept money in exchange for sex—don’t let the nice couple pay you—and you won’t be a sex worker. (Not that there’s anything wrong with being a sex worker.) And if you’ve only ever had sex in the context of a relationship, and if you want it to stay that way, then make that clear to the nice couple. Developing a relationship with you is a requirement before you can all jump into bed together. And they’ll probably be up for it, FUNGAL, as most couples who are out there looking for unicorns—which is hard work—are seeking a regular, reliable third, i.e., someone they see again and again, someone they can get to know better and come to trust and rely on. A couple with a regular third that they’re emotionally invested in may not be what comes to mind when people hear the word “relationship,” but it is a relationship, and it can be a fun and rewarding one.
3. Again, tell this couple everything you’ve told us. The only reason you hesitate, FUNGAL, is that you fear rejection. Your fear is thoroughly common, completely understandable and totally irrational. I mean, think about it: The reason you’re hesitating to tell them that you’re not bisexual—that you have no interest in putting your face in a twat (but you’re up for having her face in yours if she’s cool with no-recip oral)—is that you worry you’ll be rejected. What if you’re not what they want? But if they have their hearts set on a unicorn that wants to go facedown in twat, then you’re the wrong unicorn for them. More importantly, FUNGAL, they’re the wrong couple for you. Better to have a nice, clean, honest rejection over cocktails—a mutual recognition that you’re not a match—than to find yourself in bed being pressured to do something you don’t wanna do.

Straight couples looking for a bi female third—someone both partners can share and enjoy—call that person a “unicorn,” a mythical beast, because bi females open to playing with straight/bi couples are so damn rare. What do gay couples looking for a third call the beasts they seek?
—Frustrated Longtime Unicorn Seekers Taking Early Retirement

We gays don’t have a special term for a guy open to sleeping with a male couple. But if we were going to give that guy an affectionate nickname, FLUSTER, I would go with “horse.” Because a horse, while a magnificent and majestic beast in its own right, is a whole lot easier to come by—and in and on and over—than one of those nearly-impossible-to-find bi female unicorns.

I’m a producer with a Chicago-based production company started by a handful of former Oprah show producers. We specialize in developing unscripted/reality show concepts. We are thinking of producing a show about unicorns, those bisexual women who wish to be “thirds,” and I thought you could possibly help us find women who identify as unicorns and could be potential characters. I look forward to hearing from you!
—Hoping Unicorns Not Television Averse

You have two hurdles to clear, HUNTA, as you’re not just looking for unicorns, which are hard enough to find, but unicorns who wanna go on television and talk about being unicorns. (And you’ll probably want telegenic unicorns, too, which would be hurdle number three.) But I’m here to help: On the off chance that there are any telegenic unicorns out there reading this who want to be on TV—or any women who want to be on TV so bad that they’ll pretend to be unicorns—send me an e-mail with “TV Unicorn” in the subject line, and I will forward your e-mail on to the unicorn HUNTA.

DEAR READERS: There was a little miscommunication during the production of last week’s column—and the fault was entirely mine. Elder-sex expert Joan Price advised Old But Alive, a reader hoping to arrange a threesome with a female cousin, to hang out in lesbian bars to find a third. I advised OBA to ignore that aspect of Price’s otherwise excellent advice, since there’s nothing lesbians hate more than opposite-sex couples trolling dyke bars. But here’s the thing: Price didn’t think she was advising an opposite-sex couple to hang out in lesbian bars. She thought OBA and the cousin were both women. I knew that OBA was a man because I saw OBA’s e-mail address and his name. I don’t pass along names and e-mail addresses when I share questions with guest experts, so Price didn’t have that information in front of her. I should’ve made it clear to Price that OBA was a man—at the very least, I should’ve checked in with Price before rapping her knuckles for appearing to advise an opposite-sex couple to cruise a lesbian bar. My apologies to Price!